Special Delivery
by Robin Birdie
Summary: Whoever heard of a 'dakimakura? Peter sure hadn't. It just sucked he had to learn about it from Wade. (One-Shot)


**Special Delivery**

' _Yo! Anyone in? Hello? Hello!'_

Peter gave a groan from the sofa. It was too early in the morning to deal with any drama; there was no way that a voice that deep and gravely was his aunt's, whilst his team were all on a mission and should be away for hours, and MJ and Harry were likely at home. He checked the clock on the mantelpiece, but it was too dark to see anything. The room was pitch-black and the glow of the TV barely illuminated anything, so that he was forced to strain his eyes, and the ticking of the clock seemed impossibly loud through the silence.

He sat up awkwardly, as he gave a stretch of his limbs in an attempt to wake up. There was an ache unlike any other in his joints, whilst he felt a cold slice of pizza on his foot, which made him let out a frustrated cry and remember that he left junk food and takeaway around the living room floor. If Aunt May came back before it was cleared up, he would be grounded for life and possible for the duration of his afterlife. Peter kicked the pizza box underneath the coffee table, before he jumped up and realised that he was still wearing yesterday's clothes, and he caught a whiff of a smell that only an active teenager could manage.

' _Come on, Peter! Petey . . . Petey is better! Come on, Petey!'_

Peter rolled his eyes and stumbled over to the front door. He moved as if in a daze and gave a loud yawn of exhaustion, whilst he double-checked his spider-sense and made sure there was no danger afoot, and tried not to slouch his shoulders too much. It took longer than he wanted to reach the door, although time seemed to stop entirely as he moved, and – finally – he made it to the peephole to look through outside. He saw what looked like a middle-aged man in a hood and cap, both a dark colour that looked black in the shade, whilst he also looked pretty ripped and rather tall. Peter also noticed he carried a large package.

Too tired to be sensible about safety, he flipped the latches and chains. It took him a while to open the door, as he ran a hand through his messy bed-hair and yawned again, but finally he came face to face with his early morning visitor. The man looked scarred close up, although it was hard to see how or why, but Peter could see his piercingly blue eyes and bright smile, and he could also see how he fidgeted and bounced like a hyperactive toddler. It was then he realised just _who_ was at his door and froze. _Deadpool_.

"Er, Wade?" Peter asked. "What are you doing here?"

Wade's expression turned into a frown, as he pulled his parcel closer to his chest. It was just an ordinary box, wrapped in plain paper and white string, and the label in the top was large enough that – in the daytime – Peter may have been able to read the name and address. There was a worrying moment in which Wade's demeanour seemed to darken, enough that he looked almost dangerous and his face darkened considerably. Peter wondered what happened, especially as he barely said two sentences since opening the door.

"Is everything okay, Wade?"

"How'd you know my name?" Wade asked. "We ain't ever met before."

"Oh, well, you – you told me," said Peter lamely. "Remember? You shouted through the door: 'Peter, it's Wade'. Actually, that reminds me. How do you know _my_ name? I – I don't think we've ever met before . . . like this . . . have we?"

"Sure haven't, cutie! Here, this is for you!"

"W-what? What's for me?"

Wade shoved the parcel straight at Peter. It was done with some force, so that it knocked Peter back a few steps, but it was also done out of excitement and not malice. The older was practically on the verge of bursting, so that his smile crept back and consumed his face, and the corners of his mouth cracked and split, so that a little speck of blood or pus appeared by the scabs. It should have repulsed Peter, but he found it rather adorable that his 'friend' could pull of the puppy-dog look so well. He gave a nervous smile.

"You – you've got me a gift?"

"Why would I buy a random kid a gift?" Wade asked with a laugh. "Nah, your mailman was outside yesterday, only he had like this parcel and no one was in to get it! I was walking by and told him I lived next door, so I signed for it! Here you go, all yours!"

"W-why did you tell him that?" Peter stepped back and nodded for Wade to enter. "Do you even live anywhere near -? W-wait . . . _why did you wait until now to give it to me_? It has to be around three in the morning! The mailman must have given it to you almost a day ago! You – you couldn't have stopped by some other time? Why now?"

"Hey, do you want your parcel or not? It's not my fault this was the only time I was free! Plus the only Deadpool fan I've ever met was my ex! You wouldn't believe the moves that babe could pull! Broke up in the end . . . never really been a fan of the polygamy thing . . . guess it makes sense that no one would want to be around this face, huh? Still -! Figured if I dropped by late that you might ask me to stay, like a blind date sort of thing!"

"So you picked up a random person's parcel, dropped by in the middle of the night, all in case said stranger would be in the mood for some rebound intercourse with someone he just met? Yeah, that's _so_ going to work. Anyway, why do you think I'm a Deadpool fan?"

"Box says you got a _dakimakura_ with yours truly on it!"

Peter raised an eyebrow, as he slammed the door behind him. There wasn't much worry about inviting Wade inside, although it was likely strange for Wade to be invited into a stranger's home, because he knew that the older man was _incredibly_ moral when it came to sexual advances. The second Peter said 'no' would be the second it stopped, which wasn't to mention that he could easily kick Wade's ass should it come to that, even without his web-shooters on his wrists. He waved to the sofa and flicked on a light.

It blinded him for a brief moment, enough that he missed Wade throwing himself onto the sofa with muddy shoes still on, and he shouted out loudly for him to take his shoes off, as he followed behind and plopped himself grumpily onto an armchair just next to the sofa. Wade obeyed with surprising speed, although it revealed socks with great holes in and soles black as dirt, which somehow seemed a _lot_ worse than a little bit of mud. He placed the box onto the coffee table in front of him. The label on top had his address, name, and specified the item as one 'Deadpool dakimakura', which only added to the mystery when Peter was certain he hadn't ordered anything lately, especially some strangely named merchandise.

"What the hell is a _dakimakura_?"

The box opened easily enough, so that he was able to pull out what appeared to be a cushion of sorts, only – once he began to pull it out – he realised it was so tightly packed that it would be virtually impossible to get back inside. It was a body-pillow for sure, almost as tall as Peter himself, only the cover over it was one with Deadpool's image plastered over it in an almost indecent pose, whilst the other side _was_ an indecent pose and made Peter blush a shade of red that he never imagined himself capable of achieving. He threw the body-pillow straight at Wade, who hugged it close to him and rolled onto his side.

It looked like the other man planned on going to sleep. Peter knew that no sane man would ever invite a stranger into their house for the night, let alone a stranger like Wade, but his aunt wasn't back for some days and he felt lonely at home, plus he knew he would be safe with Wade around. The worst thing he could expect would be to see Wade in his underpants the next morning, or maybe wake up to enough pancakes to feed an army, but either option was better than spending the night alone in such a big house.

"W-w-what the hell _is_ that?" Peter asked.

"Duh, you bought it, silly! You should know that!"

"I – I didn't buy that! That's Sam's handwriting for one thing!"

Peter wrenched the box over to him and stared at the label, which was clearly written in Sam's hand and probably sent as some sort of prank, and the idea of opening such a thing in front of Aunt May made him feel embarrassed at the mere thought. He looked over to see that Wade was hugging the pillow in an adorable manner, with one shapely leg thrown over it in a way that made it look like he was straddling himself, and there was something disturbing about the idea of _two_ Wade Wilsons in his living room. Peter swallowed hard.

"I didn't even know Deadpool _had_ merchandise," muttered Peter.

"If you did, you'd buy the whole lot, eh?" Wade smirked, as he cuddled the pillow. "I'm the same with Spidey stuff! I have a plush toy of him, posters of him, even a spare mask of his that got all dirty one time! I have spidey-patterned underoos, too! Want to see?"

It should have been impossible for his cheeks to grow any more red than they already were, especially when he felt his heart race nervously and his mouth grow dry, but – instead of spluttering out some insult – he simply snatched the pillow away from Wade and stormed away. He felt the older man's eyes on him, even as Wade reached down to pick up a pizza slice, and Peter fought back the urge to warn him that was the same slice he earlier stood upon. Then again, a part of him thought Wade wouldn't care anyway.

"I'm going to bed," he snapped.

"With my pillow? Hey, you know the real thing is better than the fake!"

Peter dug his fingers into the fabric until he nearly tore it, before he slapped a hand over the light-switch and stormed his way upstairs. He heard laughter behind him, along with the sound of Wade pulling at a blanket draped over the sofa, and wondered how he would possibly face him in the morning 'morning' once properly awake. The bedroom door closed with a soft click, which he locked and barricaded with a chair just to be safe, and he threw the body pillow over onto the bed, where he bit his lip to stop from smiling.

Sam may have meant it as a joke, but it was pretty cool.

He knew he would sleep well that night.


End file.
